


Gaze

by TimmyJaybird



Series: (I Think That) I was Meant to be Next to You [6]
Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory, Yoosung is still trans even if it doesn't come up, background Zen/Jumin/Yoosung, insecure Jumin, mentioned Seayoung/Yoosung, relationship negotiation (somewhat), super loving Zen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Zen can read Jumin from just a single stare. He's so far inside his head now that he doesn't need words to understand what Jumin is thinking... and what he needs, when he's feeling weak.





	

Zen didn’t focus on the audience, when he was on stage. The lights themselves served as enough of a blinder that he seldom could make out faces- but he found he worked best when he remained in character, when he forgot there was anyone watching him at all. When, for a moment, he became someone else. Even at the end, when he was on stage with the rest of the cast, they were just endless faces without features, sounds of cheering but no one voice ever stood out.

 

Which was why, the moment when he delivered the sort of line that left both the audience and his co stars in silence, he didn’t expect to  _ see _ anyone, when he looked out. He expected a blinding light or darkness- but he looked, because it always seemed to draw the audience in, when he acted as if he was speaking to their collective soul. But this time…

 

He saw a set of eyes he recognized, knew from every line of color in those irises. Swore he knew every eyelash that framed them. Knew the lines around them when the man they belonged to smiled- rare as it seemed. Knew how they looked in the morning, not yet awake-

 

Knew what they looked like  _ satiated _ .

 

Zen let the silence drag as he stared into Jumin’s eyes, and watched the faintest quirk appear on his lips. He  _ knew _ Zen was staring. He knew- and that quirk, it turned soft, affectionate. Turned into something it ever should have been-

 

But, ah, here they were, in a world Zen had never dreamed of.

 

And when he turned, delivered his next line in a booming, commanding voice, he was aware of them on him, still. Despite the lights and the sea of endless stares, he knew Jumin’s, simply by the warm shiver it sent straight up his spine.

 

*

 

“Amazing!” the director was saying, as the cast and crew bustled, behind the stage. Zen was standing with his costar, who was beaming, her cheeks flushed as she kept her hands clasped together, eating up the praise. She was young, younger than Zen, and this had been her debut. Zen didn’t blame her for looking so thrilled. “We’ll have the media calling in for interviews like crazy! I’m sure the show will sell out for weeks!” The director reached out, clasped a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m glad we decided to film the opening night- I have no idea how we’ll ever repeat that. Zen- whatever it was that got into your blood tonight, don’t ever let it go.”

 

Zen smiled, slightly forced, and nodded his thanks. His hands were twitching at his sides, and while he loved being dotted on, being reminded that he was in this business because of his  _ talent _ \- he was distracted. Fidgety, uneasy almost-

 

There was a raise in the voices behind them, and the director stepped back. Zen glanced over his shoulder, watched the crew parting and  _ staring _ as two sets of footsteps seemed to echo through the entire building. But more than that, everything seemed to fade entirely, when Zen noticed that Jumin was still  _ smiling _ .

 

“That was excellent,” Jumin said, pausing in front of Zen. He inclined his head slightly, and his eyes had this inhuman sparkle, in this light. Zen swallowed thickly, as Jaehee settled next to Jumin. Jumin turned, took the large bouquet he had her holding, and offered it out to him. “I knew you would impress me.”

 

Such a different song than what Jumin would have sung, before this had begun. Zen took them, mumbling the softest thanks he could, while the director suddenly burst the silence with a  _ How great to see you Mr. Han! _ And reached for his shoulder. Zen watched the momentary flash in Jumin’s eyes as it was gripped and he was turned, and knew he didn’t like being touched. Not by the many outside his intimate, small circle. But the flash was gone quickly, and he had a small, controlled smile for the actress, who was visibly shaking as she shook his hand.

 

Zen lifted the flowers, almost hiding behind them, inhaling as they three talked. The smelled sweet, refreshing, a much needed reprieve to how stuffy it was behind the stage. A lovely shift from the heat of the harsh lights.

 

“You were absolutely amazing.” Zen turned, and Jaehee was facing him, smiling. Her eyes were dancing, and he couldn’t help the color that rose on his cheeks. “This was possibly the best performance from you I’ve ever seen! You delivered every line so perfectly, your voice carried through the entire room. And each pause, each drag of a word was so  _ precise _ . And your body language-” Jaehee paused when she was out of breath, inhaling deeply before reaching up to rub the back of her neck. “I apologize. That was a bit much. I am simply excited.”

 

Zen smiled, reaching over and brushing her hair back affectionately. Her nervous glance turned into a smile, that of a  _ friend _ , and Zen reached his free arm around her, pulling her in for a hug. Jaehee laughed, something she was doing so freely now, and wrapped her arms around Zen.

 

“You always impress me,” she said, her cheek resting against the many layers of his costume. “I am so glad I was given the opportunity to come. I’m… sorry for the circumstances.”

 

Zen shook his head. He had originally reserved two seats for Jumin and Yoosung… but circumstances had kept his younger lover from attending. School life meant he  _ should _ be spending the time studying, since his time was limited as he split his life between school and his internship at C&R. However…

 

Zen knew that really, Yoosung was with Seven. Luciel.  _ Saeyoung _ . He wasn’t sure which name to use anymore, it was still hard.

 

Zen wasn’t  _ upset _ that Yoosung wasn’t there. He had been the one to insist he miss the show- had promised to get him tickets to another if he really wanted to see it. He’d told him to stay home, to relax- and, yes, to see Saeyoung. To spend the evening with him.

 

Jaehee pulled back from Zen’s arms, began talking about the show again- and Zen glanced over at Jumin, who was still stuck listening to the director, nodding his head as if he was aware of what the man was saying.

 

But his stare was turned towards Zen, slowly eating him alive.

 

*

 

Zen felt his back hit the door the moment it was close. Jumin had one hand around his shoulder, holding him to the door, the other pressed against it in a fist, above Zen’s head, and he pressed tight against him. Zen stared up, his heart beating to a wild rhythm within his head and throat, taking in the current state of Jumin’s eyes.

 

_ Hunger _ .

 

He knew that look well too.

 

When Jumin kissed him, Zen was expecting it. Not because this was how every night after a show went- no, this was only the second time Jumin had ever seen him on stage in person- but because he could read those eyes. And he knew, every moment before Jumin was going to kiss him. Know what he wanted and needed by those goddamn hypnotizing  _ eyes _ .

 

“Careful,” Zen managed, as Jumin pulled back, his tongue dragging along Zen’s lips. “I’ll drop the flowers and make a mess.” He cracked a smile, and Jumin sighed. He leaned his forehead to Zen’s, the hand on his shoulder loosening, rubbing down his arm, before finding his waist and squeezing.

 

“We cannot have that,” Jumin finally said, pulling back. He reached for Zen’s limp wrist, carefully got his fingers between Zen’s and the bouquet, and took them. Zen watched Jumin walk away, and took a breath before pushing off the door, heading through the penthouse. He walked through the living room, heard the jingle of a bell as Elizabeth lifted her head from where she was curled up on the couch. A momentary glance from her, and she was settling back in, the go back to sleep.

 

Zen headed for the bedroom, pushing the door fully open. He didn’t flick the light on as he headed for the windows, pulling back the large curtains so he could see the city glittering down beneath him.

 

“Are you tired?” Zen called, hearing Jumin’s footsteps as he walked through the penthouse. “I know it’s relatively early, but your schedule was packed today, right? Should we head to bed early? Do you want a shower first?”

 

He wasn’t looking as he spoke, too busy staring at the gorgeous city in front of him. Beneath him. Like he was floating, levitating above the entire world. He heard Jumin’s footsteps, before his arms were suddenly around Zen, jerking him back. Zen leaned back against him, as Jumin lowered his head, pressed his mouth to the side of Zen’s neck.

 

“I’m not tired,” he whispered, and god, Zen was so sure they were so tight together that even an angel’s breath would not pass between them. His hands splayed on Zen’s chest and belly, and Zen could feel the flex of his delicate fingers, through his tshirt. Zen tipped his head to the side, let Jumin continued to kiss the expanse of it, before reaching back, finding Jumin’s hips and gripping them.

 

“Okay,” Zen whispered, eyes going half lidded, catching the twinkling lights outside. “What do you have in mind, sweetheart?” The pet name had Jumin exhaling, shivering, and he was turning Zen, pulling him towards the bed. Zen let himself be shoved down onto it, let Jumin get his hands under his shirt and shove it up, until it was rucked up near his collarbone. He bent over him, encased and shadowed him like some sort of living, breathing, seething cloud. Zen dug his elbows into the bed, watching and biting at his lip as Jumin’s tongue dragged over his nipple. The flesh buzzed at his touch, began to flush when tongue was replaced by his mouth, by his teeth and a subtle sucking that had Zen’s thighs shaking.

 

He moaned, over his bitten lip, his hips pushing up as Jumin kept the pace slow, kept worrying and tormenting such a small space on his body. Zen let his mouth finally fall open in a full groan, and Jumin’s eyes glanced up. Hungry still, but bordering on something else.

 

He moved to Zen’s other nipple, and Zen let his head fall back, staring up at the dark ceiling. The light was still off, would remain so. They’d make love by the light of the city through the window.

 

That was fine.

 

Jumin’s mouth finally moved, kissed the hollow of Zen’s ribs, and then over his abs. Jumin’s tongue was hot as it dragged over every curve of muscle, before he paused and sucked at the sensitive skin just above the hem of Zen’s jeans. Zen let his arms give out, fell back against the bed, as Jumin’s hands began to work his jeans open.

 

“How… how are we…” Zen started, feeling hot, almost light headed. Jumin’s bed was soft, and simply closing his eyes and inhaling would be enough to drive Zen wild. It smelled like him. Like his soap and shampoo and cologne and his skin and everything that ever drove him mad.

 

When Zen couldn’t finish the question, he lifted himself back up again, stared down as Jumin began to tug his jeans and underwear down his body. He looked up silently, and Zen  _ understood _ . There was a look when Jumin needed to own, to possess and  _ embrace _ .

 

That was it.

 

Zen didn’t mind. Circumstances and even just the night changed how their bedding worked, and he  _ liked _ that. Especially when it wasn’t just them, but their darling Yoosung too.

 

Zen lifted his hips, let Jumin pull everything down his legs. He took a moment to pull his tshirt off as Jumin untangled his clothes from his ankles, left it all piled on the floor.

 

“You are very over dressed,” Zen teased, spreading his thighs and smirking as Jumin stared up at him, from the foot of the bed. There were too many layers separating Zen’s eyes from Jumin’s skin- and while he looked like the devil ready to seduce the angels himself in a suit, Ze still preferred him with nothing at all.

 

Jumin stood up, shrugged out of his jacket. He tossed it to the corner of the bed, reached up to loosen his tie. It was meticulous, when he undressed. The tie dropped to the bed a moment later, and he began work on his cufflinks.

 

Zen rolled his hips, anxious to get his contact back. Jumin’s eyes were still eating him alive- and unable to stand it, he reached down, wrapped a hand around his cock. He was half hard- would have been completely so if he wasn’t so sucked in tonight, so torn up by that stare. Something about it… was different.

 

He eased his hand up, rubbing his thumb over his cockhead, and Jumin’s eyes flicked down once, before glancing back up at him. “C’mon  _ trustfund _ , don’t make me wait.” Zen eased is fist down as Jumin got his cuff links off, bent over to tuck them into his jacket pocket for safekeeping. “Take too long and I’ll fight you for control tonight.”

 

Some nights, a fight was nice. But Jumin was working his shirt open faster now, and Zen figured he didn’t want that. He kept his strokes slow and leisurely, not wanting to get himself too high without Jumin- just wanting to keep that buzz building.

 

Jumin stripped over his shirt, before seeming to give up and crawling back onto the bed, half dressed. He grasped Zen’s hips and flipped him, had him sprawling on his belly, one arm pinned beneath his body. Zen gasped, but didn’t fight Jumin pulled at his hips, raising them. He dug his knees into the bed, managed to get his arm free and folded them, burying his face in his arms as Jumin got his hands on his ass. He squeezed, pulled flesh apart and  _ exhaled _ against his hole, teasing him. Zen whined, because he  _ wanted _ what Jumin was promising, pretty damn badly, and even  _ teasing _ before getting eaten out for just one second was too much for him.

 

Jumin’s tongue finally flicked out, teasing and light, up over that ring of muscle. Zen exhaled, closing his eyes, as Jumin continued the feather-light licks, his fingers digging into the flesh of Zen’s ass. “Tease,” Zen breathed, his cock swelling quickly, hanging between his thighs and dripping down onto the blanket. Jumin gave a quiet  _ hmph _ over that, before his tongue was laving, hot and heavy, along Zen’s hole. Zen’s sigh turned into a moan, his teeth bared as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He trembled, fingernails digging into his own palms, as he shifted, pushing back towards Jumin’s mouth.

 

“Are you… going to make me go soft?” Zen asked, his breaths turning into subtle pants. “Until I’m  _ plaint _ and you can slide right in?”

 

He wished he could  _ see _ Jumin, then. Wished he could see the way his eyes would dilate, over Zen breathing anything even close to profane. Wanted to see the color to his cheeks and the way his breath would catch. He settled, though, for the loud groan, and then the way Jumin’s tongue pushed into him. He shuddered all over, felt Jumin’s thumbs edging towards his hole, pushing and trying to hold him slightly open. He let his mouth fall open, groaning over each movement, precum dripping down in thick streams from his cock. Jumin’s tongue kept flicking against his muscles on it’s way out, and it was making his thighs tremble.

 

“Don’t… tease…” Zen breathed, grasping at the blanket. “Either get me off like this or fuck me.”

 

Jumin groaned again, before he pulled back, turned and dug his teeth into Zen’s ass. The bite had him yelping, before Jumin’s tongue was there to soothe the ache. “Say it again,” Jumin whispered, still holding him open- and god, it might be embarrassing if the lights had been on, if Zen didn’t know better, that Jumin loved seeing every bit of him.

 

“Say what?”

 

“ _ Fuck me _ .”

 

Zen exhaled, spread his legs more, lifting his ass and bearing himself to Jumin. “ _ Fuck me _ ,” he moaned, and Jumin was fumbling around the bed, uncapping the lube and pouring it hastily over his fingers. They came back, two sliding into Zen without any finesse. Zen shuddered, pushing back against them- Jumin’s tongue had relaxed him, and his fingers were thinner than Zen’s. Zen could ride two of them without a problem.

 

Jumin’s strokes were precise, even, almost mechanical. Except it was warm skin, and Zen could hear Jumin breathing, knew he had to be aching himself.

 

“Finish undressing,” Zen said, sliding one hand beneath his body, straining his shoulder until he could feel his slick rim, could feel Jumin’s fingers. “I’ll do this.”

 

Jumin pulled out, had left Zen so damn wet that it was easy for him to replace Jumin’s two fingers with his own. Zen shuddered, pushing them in as best as he could, as Jumin climbed off the bed. Zen could hear the sound of his belt, his zipper, and focused on himself instead. Wanted to be ready when Juin came back, didn’t want to have to wait.

 

He shoved a third finger in, biting at his lip, a groan hissing through his teeth. The stretch was great, but he couldn’t get deep enough at this angle.

 

“I could watch you like this all night,” Jumin offered, against the sounds of his clothing hitting the floor. Zen let his mouth fall open then, moaning as he twisted his fingers. He couldn’t hit his prostate like this, but it still felt  _ good _ .

 

“Watch another night,” Zen managed, “You watched me enough tonight. I want you to touch me.” He shoved his fingers back in, missed the sound of Jumin pouring lube down onto his own cock. But he felt the bed shift, felt Jumin’s hand around his wrist, pulling his fingers from his body. He kept a firm hold on Zen’s wrist, the other hand grabbing his hip, pulling him back. The slick head of his cock pressed to Zen’s asshole, before a single thrust had him buried deep inside Zen’s body. Zen’s mouth fell open, eyes going wide, as Jumin pulled on his arm until his shoulder burned, keeping him steady with that hold as he fucked into him too fast, too hard- but somehow, it was almost what Zen wanted.

 

_ Almost _ .

 

Except he couldn’t  _ see _ , and there was something about the clutch of Jumin’s fingertips, his already ragged breath, that made Zen need to see his eyes. He didn’t pull his wrist from Jumin’s grip, but bit his lip as his prostate was hit over and over again, his cock twitching, smacking against his belly and smearing it wet.

 

“Jumin,” he breathed, and got no response. He let his mouth fall open, cried out loudly as his body went tight, nearly coming from another brutal thrust. But he needed to see… “Jumin,  _ stop _ .”

 

Jumin’s hips stilled, pressed tight to Zen’s ass. The hand on his hip squeezed, his thumb pushing right into Zen’s tender wrist, against his pulse. “Stop?” Jumin whispered, far too quietly. His voice seemed to tremble, and suddenly Zen needed to see him, to get his arms around him so  _ badly _ .

 

“Just… let me see you.” Jumin let go of Zen’s wrist, and his arm fell forward. He rolled his shoulder, trying to ease the ache building, before pulling himself forward, slowly. Jumin eased out of him, until he fell from his body, and Zen bit back a shudder over being empty. He turned, carefully, settling back into Jumin’s pillows and facing him, opening his thighs and his arms. “Come here.”

 

For a moment Jumin simply looked at him. He inclined his head, and in this lighting, Zen couldn’t see his eyes enough to read them. But then he was shuffle forward, reaching for Zen’s thighs and rubbing his hands up them, before getting his hands beneath them and lifting. Zen dug his elbows back into the pillows, his heels into the bed, as he tried to help lift himself, angling just right so Jumin could slide back into his body. Zen sighed, eyelids fluttering, as he reached out, slid his fingers along Jumin’s cheeks, back into his hair. Jumin glanced up at him, hands sliding over his thighs, up along his hips, to his waist.

 

“Look at me,” Zen whispered, his own eyes going soft. Jumin’s stare was awe-struck, was under filled and yet  _ longing _ . Aching, in some sort of lonely way. “I’m right here. I’m with you.”

 

Jumin bit at his lip, and he looked vulnerable to Zen. Zen tugged him in, lifting up and exhaling against his lips.

 

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he whispered, tightening his fingers in his hair. “I love you.”

 

Once, it would have been wild to say. Once, it would have been impossible.

 

But Zen had long since stopped believing in impossibility.

 

He kissed Jumin slowly. Dragged his mouth along his, coaxed until Jumin kissed back in heavy, matching drags of his lips. Jumin’s hips moved slowly, just to get closer, and Zen sighed as Jumin’s tongue pressed into his mouth. He lifted his hips, moved his arms to wind around Jumin’s neck so he could clutch at his back, holding on tightly as his hips managed small movements. Enough to get Jumin shaking, in his fingertips.

 

“Arms around me,” Zen whispered, pulling back and glancing into Jumin’s eyes. “I’m not going to last, and it’s better when you hold me.”

 

Jumin didn’t hesitate. He got his arms around Zen, pulling him up close. Zen buried his face in Jumin’s neck, clinging tightly as they both attempted to move, half thrusts meeting in a way that was somehow more satisfying than when Jumin had been driving himself so deep into Zen he could barely breathe. Zen shook, pressed his mouth to Jumin’s pulse and sucked, sucked until the skin was an angry red, and Jumin was whining, tossing his head back.

 

“You’re mine,” Zen whispered, nails digging in, leaving little crescent indents behind. “You’re  _ always _ going to be mine.” His mouth dragged up his jaw, his panting directly in Jumin’s ear. “ _ Don’t forget _ .”

 

Jumin licked his lips, managed a half nod, before Zen went back to nuzzling his neck, clinging as his breaths turned ragged. His cock was pinned between them, brushing his own belly- but he didn’t need it touched that night. He knew, from how his body kept tightening up, until he couldn’t hold it back- and then it was Jumin’s name, half sobbed into his neck, as Zen trembled all over. His release was hot on both of them, splashes against their stomachs- had Jumin gasping, trying to hold Zen tighter. He let Zen’s body squeeze him tightly, gave in when he heard Zen exhaling his name as he began to come down, and turned, pressed his face into his hair and nearly sobbed as he followed, inside Zen.

 

Zen smiled softly, felt Jumin panting into his hair. He kissed his neck softly, carefully lifting his head, leaning back. Jumin was forced to lift his head as well, to look at Zen, who was smiling far too sweetly.

 

“Lay me down,” he said, and Jumin hesitated- stared at him a moment longer, before he carefully leaned forward. Zen collapsed back into the pillows, easing his hips up as Jumin leaned back- and the feeling of Jumin leaving him had Zen biting back a noise. He didn’t want to loose the connection, but- “now come back here.” He let his arms stretch out over the bed, and Jumin examined him, lying there, before he stretched out, settling his head right on Zen’s chest. Zen hooked one arm around him, reached up to tease the ends of Jumin’s hair with his fingers. Jumin draped an arm over him, going completely silent except for the sounds of his breath.

 

Zen didn’t force, didn’t ask. He let them lay in a silence that was almost comfortable, both coming down slowly. It was only when he felt Jumin place a soft kiss to his chest that he whispered,

 

“You know, I could feel you watching me, all night.” Zen didn’t look down at Jumin, but rather stared up at the ceiling. “Even though I could barely see past the lights, and the fact that there were so many people. I saw you once, just looking,  _ watching _ … and I couldn’t shake it the entire night.” He carded his fingers through Jumin’s hair. “It felt… good. To know you were watching. To see you smile. I think I performed better because I knew I could possibly impress you…”

 

Zen glanced down, finally, and Jumin had lifted his head, was staring at him again with eyes that seemed to behold wonder. Eyes that could be so lonely, if Zen spoke even a single word incorrectly.

 

But he hadn’t, because now he  _ knew _ Jumin. He was inside his head and his bones and his  _ blood _ and he never wanted to leave.

 

Finally, after silence that seemed to stretch, Jumin offered a small smile. He leaned forward, pecked Zen’s lips. “You always impress me,” he admitted- an impossible thing, it would have once seemed. “Under those lights, you are the only one that still shines.” Zen’s smile cracked into a grin, and he pulled Jumin up, until their foreheads touched. “I will always be awe struck, darling.” Zen gave a small laugh, and Jumin kissed the bridge of his nose, before his smile faded. “I am… sorry if I was too forceful.”

 

“It’s okay. It wasn’t  _ bad _ . But you were inside your head, I could tell. I knew it’d be better if I could see you.” Jumin sighed.

 

“How do you read me so well?”

 

“It’s all in those eyes.” Zen’s fingers slide from Jumin’s hair, down his cheek, pausing for his thumb to swipe up over his cheekbone, to brush Jumin’s eyelashes. “You’re clear as day to me.” Jumin sighed, turned and kissed Zen’s palm. “You needed me to see you. You needed to be reminded that I’m here, that I won’t go anywhere.” Zen paused, before he added, “And he’s not  _ here _ physically- but know Yoosung isn’t going anywhere, either.”

 

Zen watched Jumin’s eyes flash, turn dark, like he was falling into himself. Zen sighed, tipping his head back slightly, but still keeping that stare.

 

“Your eyes are saying it all. It’s okay… you’re with me. Just… talk.”

 

Jumin was silent for a moment, before he hung his head. “What if he doesn’t come back? What if I let him go too far, and he decides he prefers this? I want to… to keep him here, for just me. For you. I want to lock him away from everyone… and I know I  _ cannot _ .” Jumin inhaled slowly. “I know that is not… safe. That is not love. But the desire is  _ there _ .”

 

Zen nodded, carefully guiding Jumin to relax down against his chest again. He wrapped both his arms around him, rubbing his spine. Jumin began to relax, slowly. “You love him by reminding yourself that’s not  _ how _ to love someone,” Zen whispered, “And Yoosung will always come back. Just like I will. We both love you. He’s… he’s discovering other parts of himself, right now. And I don’t doubt that he’ll always love us, even if he loves Seayoung as well. But if you have doubts… we can talk to him. We can  _ always _ talk to him. Otherwise… this will never work.”

 

Jumin closed his eyes. “I just want to hear his voice,” he admitted, “just for a moment. Just a single reminder. Then… I want my night to be only you.”

 

Zen smiled, before he pushed at Jumin gently. He sat up as Jumin rolled off him, stretched out on his side on the bed. Zen felt around, looking for his phone, ended up half hanging off the foot of the bed to get to his jeans. He fished it out, noticed he had a few texts- all of which had him smiling. He crawled back, flopping on his back and turning his phone, showing them to Jumin.

 

They were all form Yoosung.

 

“He missed us,” Zen said. “He missed us and wished he could have come, and if that boy typed one more  _ x _ or  _ o _ I am fairly sure he would have broken his phone screen.” Jumin smiled, just in the corners of his mouth, before Zen asked, “Do you want me to call him? He may be asleep now, but we can try.”

 

Jumin nodded, and Zen didn’t hesitate to click the  _ call _ option. He he hit the speaker button and listened to the phone ring a few times. Zen thought it might go to voicemail, when it suddenly stopped and there was the rustling of sheets, and then a barely awake, “Hello?”

 

“Hey sweetheart,” Zen said, holding his phone against his belly. “Were you sleeping?” He heard Yoosung yawn, mumble a  _ maybe _ . “I’m sorry. I know you stayed in to get some sleep and get ready for your exam- we just missed you.” He looked over at Jumin who nodded.

 

“Beloved,” Jumin offered, and Zen swore he could just feel Yoosung perking up.

 

“Jumin. How was Zen? I’m sorry I couldn’t come. I wanted to. I did study though…”

 

“Zen did beautifully.” Jumin slide closer, nearly pressed his face into Zen’s side, until his words were slightly muffled. “I wish you had come as well.”

 

“The show was recorded,” Zen said, “if you really want, we can watch it sometime. And there will be other shows. How was your night?”

 

“Mm, okay. Saeyoung helped me study a bit. We watched a movie when I got tired.” Yoosung yawned again. “He went home.”

 

Zen knew Jumin needed to hear that. While he was secure in this, he knew Jumin would always have insecurities that took  _ time _ to ease- that took endless reassurance. And he was  _ fine _ supplying that- he was just happy that Yoosung seemed to even subconsciously realize this.

 

And that he was honest- because without  _ that _ , this would never work.

 

And Zen wanted,  _ needed _ this to work out, come the end of days.

 

“I miss you,” Jumin whispered, then added, “We miss you. Please come see me tomorrow after your classes, before you being any projects. I want to look at our schedules.”

 

Zen almost  _ laughed _ \- but, well, it was true. They all had their own conflicting schedules.

 

“‘Kay, I’ll come straight to your office  _ Mr. Han _ .” Zen laughed at that, and he knew Jumin had a tinge to his cheeks. “But know that I’m kissing you the moment the door closes.”

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

Zen picked his phone up then. “We’ve kept you up enough sweetheart. Please get some sleep. Good luck tomorrow.” Yoosung thanked him, gave a sleepy  _ I love you _ directed to the both of them, before Zen was ending the call and tossing his phone away. He turned, got his arms around Jumin and tangled their legs together, resting his chin atop his head. “Feel better?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

Zen smiled, hugging Jumin tightly. He knew he would. He knew if he looked down and saw his eyes, they’d be calm, placid. Tired and content, the way they should be at this time in the evening.

 

It would just take time. But time, Zen knew, they had. If he continued to be able to read Jumin by a simple stare, he knew he could make sure this never fell apart.

 

And god, he’d work until the day he died to make sure of that.


End file.
